


The Canadian Knight

by Northern_Lady



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV), X-Men (Movieverse), X-Men - All Media Types
Genre: Crack Crossover, Short Chapters
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-02
Updated: 2017-07-22
Packaged: 2018-11-22 04:42:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 5,049
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11372790
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Northern_Lady/pseuds/Northern_Lady
Summary: What if Wolverine ends up in Westeros? His adamantium claws are better than Valyrian steel....





	1. Chapter 1

It was not the first time Logan had visited another world but it was by far the strangest experience in getting there that he’d ever had. There had been an explosion at the mansion. Xavier’s School had gone up in flames. When the flames subsided enough to see his way out, Logan walked out of the fire to find he was no longer on school grounds but standing next to a castle. Most of his clothes had burned off in the inferno. There was a woman standing there with red hair, a deep red medieval dress, and choker necklace. She was watching him intently. 

“How did I get here and who the hell are you?” he said. 

“The Lord of Light has brought you here. I am but one of his servants, Melisandre.” the woman said. “Come, you will need clothing and I will tell you more of how the Lord has need of you.” 

“I’m not following you anywhere until you tell me what the fuck is going on.” Logan said, He didn’t know what sort of trap could be in that castle or what sort of powers these people could have if they could pull him right out of the mansion into another world like they had. 

Melisandre didn’t look impressed with his demands. “It will be easier for you if you just cooperate. There is no use in fighting the Lord’s will.” 

“Just get me those clothes, lady, I’ll wait right here.” 

*******************

“Let me get this straight, there’s a king in the north, a queen in the south, and another queen in the east who plans to take over the whole damn place?” Logan asked some time later. He was wearing brown breeches, boots, and a white linen tunic. They were still outside. He didn’t trust this woman who had summoned him, at least not enough to go meet her people just yet. 

“That is correct. And to the far north there are the white walkers who will lay waste to the whole world if we do not stop them.” 

“That;s why you sent for me? For these white walkers?” Logan asked. 

“I didn’t send for you. I asked the Lord of Light to send us the warrior we needed and he sent you. I do not know why you were chosen.” 

“I’m not much on religion. Who is this Lord of Light?” Logan said, expecting that there probably was a powerful being in play here but not an actual god. 

“He is the one and only God. Tell me Logan, are you a warrior in the world you come from?” 

“I guess you could say that. But I’m not interested in your war. You can’t just take a guy from his world and tell him he has to fight in your war. It’s not my problem. So why don’t you go ahead and pray to your god or do your magic or whatever is you do and send me right back home again.” 

“I am afraid I can’t do that,” Melisandre said. 

“I was afraid you might say that.” Logan let out his claws, angry. “Look lady, send me back or or you’re gonna have to meet that god of yours real soon.” 

Melisandre took a step back, eyes wide with fear at the metal claws in his hands. “What sort of steel is that?” 

“This?” he lifted one of his hands to show. “It’s adamantium. Strongest metal on my world.” 

“That is why he sent you.” she sounded stunned with the realization. “ Only valyrian steel can kill the white walkers. And you...you have it in your bones…You must stay!” 

“I’m not staying!” 

“I can not send you back. Go north and help Jon Snow. Tell him I sent you and maybe I can redeem myself. If we all survive the winter then perhaps the lord will take you home himself.” 

He took a step closer to her and put his claws to her neck. He didn’t plan to kill this woman but she didn’t know that. He just wanted to go home. 

“Kill me if you must,” Melisandre said, “It is no less than I deserve. However if you do that, you will be trapped here for even longer. There are few worshippers of the Lord of Light here in Westeros and not all of them have enough faith to ask what you seek.” 

Logan backed away from her and retracted his claws with a sigh. “How do I find this Jon Snow?”


	2. Chapter 2

It had been years since he’d ridden a horse. The destrier that Melisandre had found for him was a gray dappled mare and she seemed to constantly want to stop and graze. Progress was slow on this King’s Road that he’d been set on and he could hardly contain his anger and being stuck here. In spite of all that though, he was curious about this other world. 

As far as he could tell, these people still had a feudal system. He saw some people on the roadside reading books, so maybe they had a printing press. They had carts with wheels. Men wore suits of armor and carried swords. The technology didn’t seem to go much beyond that. 

It was going to take several weeks to reach Winterfell. In that time he learned that the people of this world were just people much like the ones he had left at home. He was concerned that the people back home had been hurt or killed when he’d been brought here but the school had blown up before and everyone survived just fine. Maybe they were all okay. They’d have to rebuild, again, but they’d manage somehow. Or he hoped so. If they hadn’t survived then there was no point in helping these people. Not if they’d killed his friends. Except that he had to help them or he might never get home. 

As he continued North the weather grew cooler. The cold didn’t bother him. It never had. He slept on the ground each night. Hunted for food on occasion, and continued traveling by day. Late one afternoon he came to a village. There seemed to be some sort of tavern, if the drunken men stumbling out into the street was any indication of what was inside. He wondered if this place had anything like beer. He had no money to pay but he did see an older man struggling to chop firewood further up the street. 

An hour later Logan had earned a few coins and he went into the dimly lit tavern. It wasn’t unlike the bars he known all his life. There was a counter, a barkeep, tables, men with scantily dressed women on their laps, food, and as usual someone was trying to sing and only succeeding in murdering the song. 

“What do you got to drink?” he asked the older woman pouring drinks. 

“You’re not from around here,” she said, “I’ve never heard an accent like that.” 

“Nope, the place I’m from...you haven’t heard of it. Could use a drink though.” 

“Well I have some Dornish wine or some cider and I have some ale in the back,” the woman said. 

“I’ll take the ale,” Logan said. It was an easy choice. 

The ale was decent. He had nearly drunk his fill when the commotion started behind him. 

“Get your hands off of her, she’s my daughter not some whore!” the barmaid was shouting. 

Logan turned to find a young girl had been pulled onto the lap of a muscular older man and was struggling to get free. Her mother, the barmaid had pointed a kitchen knife at him but the man was not intimidated by her threats. 

“I ain’t gonna hurt her,” the man said dully. “I just want to sit with her a while is all. She’s pretty.” 

“She isn’t yours. Let her go!” the mother said. The teenage girl was crying. 

With a sigh Logan got to his feet. He didn’t know how he always found himself in these situations. “Let her go,” he told the man. 

“Who the fuck are you?” the man said. “You ain’t even got a sword…” 

Logan slowly let out his claws. “Let the girl go, bub. I’ve got something better than a sword.” 

The man got to his feet, wide eyed and frightened at what he was seeing. He let the girl go and she fled to her mother. “What is that? And what in seven hells is a bub?” 

“I don’t think you want to find out. You best get out of here before you do,” Logan told him and the man hurried out of the tavern while he still had the chance.


	3. Chapter 3

The castle looming in the distance could only be Winterfell. Logan had been hearing a lot about the place as he travelled. He’d heard from many people at the taverns and inns he visited about the Starks of Winterfell, the bastard Jon Snow, and his father Eddard Stark who had been executed by the Southern king. He was curious to meet this king in the North and see if he was anything like his reputation. 

Logan approached the gates and someone from up on the battlements shouted inside. “Rider at the gates!” 

He waited and moments later someone was opening the gates and letting him inside. A young boy came over and took the reins of his horse as Logan dismounted, An older man approached as well. “My name is Ser Davos Seaworth. I am afraid I don’t recognize your house colors.” 

Logan had picked up multiple items of clothing along the way. He was currently wearing a red tunic and a jacket of soft brown leather. “That’s cause they aren’t house colors. My name is Logan. I’m here to see Jon Snow. A woman by the name of Melisandre sent me.” 

Davos took a step back and reached for the sword at his side. He didn’t draw it. “Any messenger from that red witch is not welcome here!” 

Logan raised a hand to calm him. “Look, I don’t like her either. She took me from my home and she won’t let me go back. What did she do to you?” 

“She burned alive a little girl….a little girl that I loved...all for a favor from the Lord of Light.” 

“This Lord of Light doesn’t sound like such a nice guy.” Logan said, keeping an eye on Davos hand in case he went for his sword after all. 

“Why did she send you to Jon Snow?” Davos asked, making no comment on the Lord of Light. 

“She hopes to redeem herself and she thinks I can help fight the White Walkers. She refuses to ask her Lord to send me home until I do that. So I’m here to help...and then I can go home.” Logan explained. 

Davos nodded, unhappy but accepting his answer nonetheless. “Where am I to tell His Grace that you hail from?” 

“A place called Canada.” Logan said with a shrug. 

“In the meantime, go through that door across the courtyard and someone will get you a meal.” Davos said. 

Logan started across the yard. Servants and common people were milling about as were men in armor. A woman with long red hair caught his eye in the distance. “Jean?” Logan said without even thinking. It couldn’t be her. By the time he caught up to where the woman had been, she was gone.


	4. Chapter 4

When they brought Logan before Jon Snow, it was to a great hall with tables and chairs. There was a throne of some sort at one end of the room but Jon wasn’t sitting there. He was standing at the end of one of the tables, surrounded by other men. As Logan got closer he could see that they were all looking over maps. He assumed he was probably supposed to bow but he wasn’t going to bow to some stranger, king or not. 

“Your Grace,” Davos began the introduction. “This is the stranger we spoke of.”

Jon regarded Logan somewhat warily, as the rest of the men except for Davos all made an exit. “Melisandre sent you?” 

“She did, not that I wanted to be here.” Logan told him. 

“Is it true that she is keeping you from returning to your home until you aid us in our fight?” Jon asked, not happy with the idea. 

“Yeah, it’s true,” Logan admitted. 

“She had no right to do any such thing. I did not ask for her help. I banished her so that she would never help us or call on her red god to help us again. I could send men to ride south with you and threaten her if it would help…” Jon offered. 

Logan shook his head. “I already did my share of threatening. Seems like I might as well just do what I came here for and get it over with.” 

“You know how to handle a sword I take it, even though you don’t carry one?” Jon asked. 

“I can handle a sword,” Logan said, truthfully. He was more accustomed to a Katana blade but he could handle a sword if he needed to. “I used have a sword called Maramasa.” 

“Davos said you do not come from a noble house, are you a knight?” Jon asked him. 

Logan shook his head. “I’m not a knight and I’m not from a noble family. I have fought in wars though. I know how to kill people and where I come from, no can kill me.” 

Jon looked annoyed at Logan’s words. “Come with me then.” 

Logan followed the young king, along with Ser Davos, out of the great hall and down a long hallway. They stopped by an open room full of weapons. Jon took a sword from a rack as well as a shield with a wolf sigil. Jon continued on until they were outside in an open area with a row of targets and practice dummies. Jon passed the sword and shield to Logan and then drew his own blade from his side. 

“You say you can handle a sword,” Jon said. “Lets see?” 

Jon took the first swing at him and Logan instinctively blocked the blow with the shield. He didn’t really care for fighting with a shield though. It got in the way and after only a few blows, Logan tossed it aside. 

“These aren’t practice swords,” Jon reminded him. “I might cut you.” And just as he said that, Jon’s blade nicked Logan’s jaw. Logan jumped back and missed most of the blow. His chin was bleeding but it was healing as quickly as it was bleeding. Jon stumbled back at the sight. This was chance. Logan tossed the sword aside, let out his claws charged at Jon. 

The young king stumbled back two more steps at the terrifying sight before he found his footing and raised his sword. Logan’s claws clashed with the sword. He pushed onward and knocked Jon onto his back, his sword pinned against his chest, the claws of his left hand were at Jon’s throat. 

“I yield,” Jon said, a little disturbed by what had just happened. 

Logan retracted his claws and took a step back, giving Jon a hand to get to his feet. Ser Davos stood by looking stunned as well. 

“What are you?” Jon asked him. 

Logan didn’t answer the question. He only had eyes for the red haired young woman who was watching from the balcony. “Who is that?” he asked. 

Jon followed the direction of his gaze. “That’s Sansa, my sister.” 

Sansa seemed to realize he was looking at her and she didn’t seem happy about it. She glared at him and walked away.


	5. Chapter 5

Logan was given a room in Winterfell and was asked politely to wait there until someone came to fetch him for dinner. A guard was posted outside. He knew well enough what that meant. These Starks didn’t trust him and didn’t want him wandering freely around their castle. He couldn’t say that he blamed them for that. He was a stranger after all, from a land that no one had heard of, and with his mutant powers he was probably rather frightening to the medieval people. Hell, he was frightening to modern humans back on earth sometimes. There was no reason to expect that would change in a place like this. 

Some hours later a servant came and told him to come to dinner. He followed the lad and the guard back to the great hall where he’d met Jon earlier. Jon sat at the end of the table this time. His sister Sansa sat to his left. To his right sat Ser Davos and a red haired man he hadn’t met yet. Davos motioned to Logan, inviting him to join them. 

“It has been decided,” Davos began as Logan sat, “That we will go North at the end of the week. We’ll go beyond the Wall and fight the enemy there before they can make it to the rest of the world. You will come with us?” 

“I will,” Logan said, knowing he didn’t have much choice. 

“The end of the week?” Sansa spoke up, “You’re leaving so soon?” She said to Jon. 

“Sansa, we have to. You know that.” Jon said. 

“Then let me come with you?” Sansa said. 

“The battlefield is no place for a woman,” Jon said. “Besides, there must always be a Stark in Winterfell. You’re needed here.” 

“Brienne is going to the battlefield.” Sansa said, glancing at the blonde woman next to her. “Winterfell is ours now. The whole North is supporting that now. None of that will even matter if the White Walkers make it south. Maybe I can’t fight but I can help. I can tend wounds and cook and sew furs. I can be useful.” 

Jon looked hesitant. “We’ll talk about it later,” he said. 

Sansa looked angry but she didn’t question him. She went back to picking at the food on her plate and said nothing more on the matter. 

Jon changed the subject. “Logan, will you tell us about the place you came from? It was called Canada? Is that in Essos?” 

“It’s not in Essos,” he had been on this world long enough now to know that Essos was a land across the sea. “It’s not on this world.” 

“What do you mean by that?” Davos asked. “Not on this world?” 

“You do know that there are other worlds, right? Out beyond the stars you see at night there are other worlds full of people not so different than you.” Logan told them. 

Jon looked a little surprised by that but one of his friends, an overweight young man looked fascinated by the very concept. “On your world, does everyone have the...the claws?” the young man asked. 

“No.” Logan said. “I don’t know anyone else who has those.” 

“Well, that must be rather lonely,” the young man said again. “Being the only one like you.” 

“We’re all the only one like ourselves, Sam.” Jon said. 

“Yes, but if he heals like he did in the yard this morning, then he probably lives longer than everyone else. Imagine outliving your own grandchildren…” Sam said sadly. 

“I haven’t got any grandchildren,” Logan said gruffly. The last thing he wanted was for these people to feel sorry for him. 

“Well, you must have family back on your world?” Sansa spoke to him for a the first time. “A family who misses you while you’re stuck here?” 

“I haven’t got any family anymore. Only a brother who hates me. I have friends though.” Logan told her. “Friends are better than family sometimes.” 

The table fell silent for a moment before Sam spoke up again. “You must be a great warrior on your world Ser Logan, with those claws and the ability to heal…” 

“I’m not a knight. We don’t have knights anymore where I’m from.” he told them. 

“If they don’t have knights, they must at least have soldiers,” Sam said. “There has to be someone to defend the king. Or do you not have king either?” 

“We have a few kings but most of our leaders weren’t born leaders. They were chosen by a vote of all the people, We have armies of soldiers too and wars sometimes when bad men try to take power or when some person we elected just wants more power,” Logan explained to them. 

“Jon was chosen to be king,” Sansa said, a little offended at his words. “The bannermen declared him King in the North.” 

“His bannermen are all nobles,” Logan reminded them. “Did the common people get any choice in it?” 

“The common people are uneducated,” Sam said, a little confused. “How would they know…?” 

The young woman sitting next to Sam elbowed him in the ribs. “Being uneducated doesn’t make them stupid.” 

“I didn’t mean that, Gilly,” Sam said apologetically. “What I meant was-” 

“I know what you meant,” Gilly argued. “You meant that people who haven’t read all your books might not know how to pick a good man to lead them.” 

“Or woman,” Logan cut in. 

“Men vote for women to lead them on your world?” Sansa asked, shocked and intrigued. 

“They do, but there are some men who never will let a woman lead them or let a woman near a battlefield,” he looked pointedly at Jon. “I guess every world has men like that.” 

“It’s not like that,” Jon protested. “I am only trying to protect her. The White Walkers will not be an ordinary battle and so many of my family have been killed.” 

“I know,” Logan said. “I’d probably do the same thing if it were my sister.” he admitted. 

Sansa huffed in anger and went back to picking at her food. 

“So tell me about these White Walkers?” Logan asked.


	6. Chapter 6

After a few days in Winterfell there was no longer any guard posted outside Logan’s door. He was allowed to go where he liked on the castle grounds and was free to leave if he wished to do so. He didn’t see much of Jon or of Sansa. Much of his time was spent in the library, trying to make sense of how to get home by learning more about the Lord of Light. Samwell helped him in that endeavor when he could. When he grew tired of the fruitless search in old books, Logan sometimes spent time with Ser Davos if he could find him. He liked Davos well enough. He wasn’t sure he liked this King Stannis Davos was always talking about. He wasn’t sure he liked any of these kings or queens for that matter. If he were asked to pick a side in their war for power, he wouldn’t be able to pick one. Helping them battle the White Walkers was another matter entirely though. If it helped save them from destruction, he could help with that. 

Since the day he’d arrived, Logan had avoided the practice yard. Only a few people had witnessed his little fight with Jon but word had spread quickly and people were already wary of him without him ever going back to the yard. Even so, he was bored late one morning and he wandered in the direction of the yard just to see whoever might be training there. He heard the clash of steel before he ever reached the yard. Jon was there and was sparring with a young woman. 

“Who is she?” Logan asked Davos who stood watching the fight. 

“That is Arya Stark, Jon’s sister. She arrived last night in while everyone was asleep. She’s been missing a long time,” Davos explained. 

Jon looked happy as he fought his little sister. Sansa came up alongside him to watch as well. Sansa somehow looked both sad and happy at the same time. Then the man that he knew to be Peter Baelish joined them in the yard. “Sansa may I have a word with you?” Baelish took her arm and led her away. 

“Why is he always having words with her?” Logan asked Davos. “That’s the third time since I’ve been here that he’s run off with her. I thought you people did arranged marriages so why…?” 

Davos looked confused a moment, then understood. “There may be some truth to what you say. I haven’t the slightest idea of what Lord Baelish is up to. I will speak to Jon about it.” 

Arya Stark had ended her match with Jon and saw the group that had gathered to watch them. “Who are they?” she asked Jon. 

“This is Ser Davos Seaworth,” Jon said, making their way towards them. “And Logan is joining us when we travel North in two days.” 

Arya looked him over. “Why?” she asked Jon, skeptical. 

“He will be helpful in the battle,” Jon said. 

“Well I’m sure we can use all the swords we can get,” she said with a shrug, still not understanding why this commoner who didn’t carry a sword was even here. 

“I won’t be bringing a sword,” Logan said, and he let out his claws to show her. 

Arya’s eyes widened but it wasn’t with fear. She was impressed. 

“That’s not all,” Jon said. “His wounds heal almost as soon as he receives them.” 

Arya smiled, still in awe. “Where did you come from? How did you…?” she reached out curiously and touched the end of one of his claws. 

“It’s a long story,” Logan said. “Maybe tonight at dinner I can tell it to you.” 

She nodded. “I can’t wait to hear it.” 

Arya headed back inside and Logan caught Jon’s arm. “She’s coming North with us?” 

“She is. She knows how to fight. She insisted on joining us.” Jon said. 

“You’re bringing one sister and not the other?” 

Jon sighed. “You’re right. Maybe I’ll have to ask Arya to stay.”


	7. Chapter 7

Logan awoke in the middle of the night with a start. It took him a moment to remember that he was within his bedchamber at Winterfell and not at home at Xavier’s School any longer. Then he heard it, the noise that had woken him was someone crying on the other side of the wall to his room. He knew that the room to his left was occupied by the kitchen master and the room to his right was occupied by two stable boys, brothers. The weeping came from the back wall of his room. He would have to go down the long corridor and around the corner to see who occupied the rooms on the other side. Though, he had been down that corridor not four days ago and he was pretty sure that the room on that side was Sansa’s. 

Logan couldn’t sleep listening to her cry. He barely knew her. She was none of his business. And yet knowing she was in the next room sobbing was enough to keep him awake. He tried to ignore it for a good half an hour. When he could take it no longer he got up and went out of his chambers and around the long corridor. He stopped, not in front of Sansa’s room but in front of Arya’s and knocked on the door. Arya came to the door moments later and wrenched it open, grumpy as he expected. 

“What do you want?” she said, groggy and confused. 

“You should see to your sister,” Logan said. 

“See to my….?” Arya began and then she heard it too. “Oh. Why is Sansa crying?” 

“I haven’t got a clue,” Logan said and he moved to go back to his room. By the time he got back to his room, Sansa had stopped crying but with his sensitive hearing he could hear every word of their conversation. 

“Does this happen a lot? The nightmares?” Arya was asking. 

“Not as often as it used to,” Sansa told her. “Sometimes I’m fine for weeks, and then something happens to remind me and it all comes back again.” 

“To remind you of Ramsay?” Arya asked. “Or Joffrey?” 

“Both of them. I have nightmares about them both. I was there when Joffrey ordered father killed. I saw him die. And days later Joffrey brought me out to where they’d put father’s head on a pike and made me look at it. Sometimes I still dream of that moment...and Ramsay raped me every night for months...anyone who was nice to me, he flayed them alive...I know he is dead now and I’m home and you’re here and Jon is here...but I never quite feel safe.” Sansa said. 

“Maybe you should carry a sword too. It helps me feel safer.” Arya suggested. 

“Father carried a sword. It didn’t stop Joffrey from killing him. Weapons aren’t the only way to gain power.” Sansa said, 

“Is that why Littlefinger is still here? Even after he gave you to Ramsay? Because he is a means to power?” 

“We need the knights of the Vale. We need them to help stop the Lannisters if they come here.” 

“You really think the Lannister army will march North?” Arya asked. 

“Cersei won’t allow Jon to be King in the North without a fight. They’ll come eventually. When they do, we need the knights of the Vale on our side.” 

“What if Littlefinger decides to side with the Lannisters? He’s a sneaky little bastard and that sounds exactly like something he would do.” Arya said. 

“Lord Royce commands the army. If Littlefinger tries to betray us, I’ll tell Lord Royce what Petyr Baelish did our Aunt Lysa. He killed her, you know? He pushed her out the moon door and made himself Lord of the Vale. Lord Royce was loyal to Aunt Lysa. All the nights of the Vale were. I haven’t told anyone what Baelish did because the time wasn’t right but I will tell them when I need to.” 

“He might try to kill you. I won’t let him but he might try.” 

Sansa was silent a moment, “Have you killed people Arya, since you’ve been gone?” 

“I have. I killed out enemies. I made a list of enemies and most of them I killed. I’m not sorry about it either.” 

“Good. I’m not sorry either.” Sansa agreed.


End file.
